You and I bathed in eternal summer's glow

by KindOfASorcerer

Summary:

“Let me summarize this, Commander,” Obi-Wan said slowly, feeling like he was still missing a piece of the puzzle. “Are you seriously asking me, whether I told Anakin that the both of us were romantically involved?”
“That is exactly what I’m asking, sir.”

or, Obi-Wan's attempt to lecture Anakin backfires in unexpected ways.

Notes:

I have debated whether or not to post this, but what better time to share than the aftermath of a cyberattack.
(It's only been a week.)

Chapter 1: Hyperspace

Obi-Wan couldn’t remember the last time he had felt like they'd had a moment to catch their breath. Regarding their track record of one life-threatening battle following the other, a relief mission almost felt like taking a break; and he had a creeping suspicion that he had Master Koon to thank for it.

He suppressed the tiny voice in his head that reminded him that even relief missions had the tendency to go terribly sideways – especially when his former padawan was involved. That was another reason he felt like they had not been assigned by chance; two Jedi, a padawan learner, and a good number of their men definitely seemed like an overkill for dropping food and medicine off on an outer rim planet. And yet, he couldn’t find it in his heart to argue when he had received the orders. More than ever, they could use the downtime.

Their last assignment had made it painfully obvious how fragile Anakin’s self-restraint could be. It was high time to address the bantha in the room. He hadn’t been afraid to admit that his padawan’s capabilities had long surpassed his own in some ways, but it felt like all his lessons on self-control, emotions, and discipline had fallen on deaf ears. He felt a twinge in his gut at the realisation that it was, at least in part, his own failure.

But it wasn’t too late to make it right, which was the reason why he had been standing in front of his padawan’s temporary quarters, trying to gather his thoughts, hand frozen mid-air, hesitating before knocking on the door.

“Come in, Master.” An impatient voice called from inside.

Obi-Wan realised that Anakin must have sensed his presence a long time ago, as the door slid open. There was no turning back now. He stepped into the room to find the young Jedi sitting at his desk, looking up at him from his datapad.

“Am I interrupting something? Or would you be available to talk?” Obi-Wan asked, more out of politeness than genuine curiosity. He was determined not to give it up that easily.

“Do I really have a choice?”

“To a certain extent.”

“Ugh,” Anakin groaned in frustration. “Fine. Let’s just get this over with. What did I do this time?”

“Nothing,” Obi-Wan answered honestly, but the statement only made both of Anakin’s brows shoot up in disbelief. “But I do think we have some things to discuss.”

“I’m listening,” Anakin set aside the datapad and gestured for the master to take the seat next to him.

Obi-Wan took him up on the offer and turned to the young man, whose expression was unreadable apart from the expectantly raised eyebrow. He must have pulled his mental shields up as well, because his presence felt like staring at an empty wall.

“You’re not my padawan anymore,” Obi-Wan started, trying to convey as much earnestness as he could in his voice. ”So this isn’t a lecture. But I want you to know that you can always come to me for help. No matter what.”

Anakin scoffed at that and averted his gaze.

Obi-Wan couldn’t help but wonder what thought had crossed his mind in that moment, but he had no intention of forcing a confession out of him. Anakin had to open up by himself. All he could do was extend his hand and hope it would be accepted.

But he also knew that he couldn’t expect that without showing the way first.

“I know you think I wouldn’t understand.” His voice was steady as always, but something in it did grab Anakin’s attention. “I didn’t know my parents, for one, not enough to remember them. So you might say I had it easier in that regard. Still, it doesn’t mean that I am immune to emotions, none of us are. But Jedi cannot afford the indulgence that most ordinary people are allowed, we must control our feelings, not the other way around. If they get the better of us, they cloud our judgement, or worse. Love has the potential to evolve into something possessive and destructive. But your-” He backtracked, thinking better of it. “These feelings aren’t wrong, Anakin.”

He sighed, collecting himself, examining the temporary quarters. It felt empty, missing the personal touch. There were no posters on the wall, no tools scattered on the ground and no starship replicas to be found. He finally returned his gaze to his padawan, who surprisingly seemed to have been listening intently.

It was time to make his own confession.

“I can’t deny I used to harbour feelings for Satine,” he said, and Anakin’s surprise was clearly written on his face; the small wave of shock projected in the Force following the admittance didn’t escape his notice either. “Our love and our duties were incompatible, so nothing came of it, but that’s not always the case. As long as we can think clearly and put them aside when needed.”

He thought of all the people he cared for. All those who understood that him being a Jedi meant that the Order and his responsibilities would always come first.

“Take my relationship with Commander Cody, for example.” He saw Anakin’s eyes widen even further at that. “I cannot let it influence my decision-making. I have to put his life on the line just as any of my other men’s. And he has to accept that I must risk myself for the sake of many. The fear of losing the other is inconsequential.”

Anakin let his guard down, his mental defences cracking slightly. Obi-Wan could feel shock and then a surge of overwhelming anxiety radiating from the other side of the table, so he opted to grab the younger man’s wrist, squeezing it reassuringly.

“I won’t force you to say anything. Not now, not later. But I hope you’ll feel like you can confide in me one of these days.”

Finally, Anakin spoke up for the first time, just to dismiss him.

“If there’s nothing else, Master.”

Obi-Wan knew that was his cue to leave, so he did, not letting his disappointment show.

-

“Let me summarise this, Commander,” Obi-Wan said slowly, feeling like he was still missing a piece of the puzzle. “Are you seriously asking me whether I told Anakin that the both of us were romantically involved?”

“That is exactly what I’m asking, sir.” Cody must have taken pity on the Jedi’s confused expression because he chose to elaborate. “The men seem to think we are an item. They kept congratulating me all day, sir. I’ve managed to trace the rumour back to Skywalker, and he said you’d told him yourself.”

Obi-Wan was rarely at a loss for words, but this was one such occasion. He watched as Cody took a sip of the tea he had offered him earlier and then proceeded to add an obscene amount of honey to the tiny cup. The Jedi absent-mindedly deemed his earlier assumption that his commander might not be overly keen on the hot beverage confirmed. He didn’t think Cody had a sweet tooth since he drank his caf black; he must have attempted to mask the distinct taste of the tea leaves.

“I think I would–” Obi-Wan stopped abruptly as he tried to recall his recent conversation with Anakin. He could remember the part regarding his second-in-command, but not the exact wording he had used. Had he not specified? Surely, he couldn’t have possibly said something that ambiguous.

Oh, no, he thought to himself as it dawned on him, burying his head in his hands. That is exactly what I did.

“I must apologise profusely, Commander.” He glanced at Cody, expecting anger, or at least a scowl, but the clone’s expression was unmoved. “I had a talk with Anakin regarding attachments last night. I chose my words poorly. I was referring to our relationship in a professional capacity, of course, but I failed to make that clear, apparently.”

“No harm done, sir,” came the reassurance from Cody. The honesty in his voice could have been felt from parsecs away. “But won’t there be any repercussions for you if word gets out?”

Obi-Wan couldn’t help but smile at that. He didn’t think Cody would hold a grudge for the mix-up, but that the commander would worry about him – even though he was the one who'd started the whole ordeal in the first place – was unexpected.

“No, that was part of what I was trying to explain to him.” Obi-Wan let an exasperated sigh escape his lips. The least he could offer the man opposite of him was an explanation. “Someone as observant as you must have picked up on his connection to Senator Amidala.” The commander nodded affirmatively. “I tried to tell him that his emotions are natural but should be handled with care. I must have failed more spectacularly than I had initially thought.”

He reached for the comm on his desk, not wanting to delay the inevitable any further. “I’ll clear this up right away.”

Anakin didn’t pick up. This might have been a cause for concern in any other case, but considering the circumstances, it was simply conspicuous.

Following multiple failed attempts, he tried to call Rex at Cody’s suggestion. The comm connected soon enough, and they could hear a familiar voice on the other end of the line, inquiring with feigned nonchalance: “Is there a problem, General Kenobi, sir?”

“No, no problem, Captain,” the Jedi replied, making sure his voice sounded sincere. “Or at least I hope you can assist me in resolving it. I’m looking for Anakin.”

“He sai–“ Rex’s voice cracked in a way that could hardly be blamed on a bad connection. “He’s busy at the moment, sir.”

“Please tell him he’s not in trouble, I would only like to clear up a misunderstanding. Send him to my quarters as soon as you can.”

“I will, sir.” There was a pause and the sound of something shuffling. “He’ll be there in twenty. Ah, provided I find him, of course, sir.”

“I trust your abilities, Captain,” Obi-Wan said wryly, turning the comm off.

He looked over at Cody, whose expression mirrored his own amusement. His eyes were glinting slightly, accompanied by an affectionate lopsided smile on his face.

“Rex did not become a better liar,” Cody quipped.

“As opposed to you?”

“I can keep a straight face at the very least,” the commander deadpanned, no sign left of the earlier expression.

Obi-Wan almost felt guilty about making it disappear.

“Quite. Remind me not to play sabacc against you,” he agreed jokingly, which earned him a fleeting smile from Cody in return. He felt something warm in his chest at the sight – a sign of relief perhaps, that their friendship was not completely unsalvageable.

Obi-Wan wouldn’t have blamed him if he wanted to keep his distance until the men found something else to gossip about, but was grateful that Cody had no intention of doing so.

He turned his attention back to their discussion. “Regarding your earlier concern, I suppose the Jedi Council would have a word or two with me about it, mainly to make sure my attachment would not interfere with my duties as knight and councillor. But I do hope they have more urgent matters to attend to during a war than conducting an interrogation into my private life based on mere hearsay.”

Cody nodded, seeming relieved. His lips then curled upward as he said, “I don’t know what I should be more offended by, the fact that the men believe I’ve made a move on my superior officer or that I would leave such a relationship undisclosed.”

Obi-Wan did not know what he meant by the latter. “Undisclosed?”

“Yes, sir. Based on regulations, in case two people of differing ranks enter a relationship, it must be officially disclosed to ensure it is consensual. There’s a form to be submitted. Although, I’m sure that the people coming up with the procedure had the natborn officers in mind.”

Before Obi-Wan could react to this novel piece of information, the door opened and his long-missing padawan stood frozen at the entrance, presumably startled by the unexpected company.

“Oh, you two…” Anakin growled, but his frustration soon turned into nervous rambling. “Look, don’t be mad! I only told Rex in confidence. And I might have slipped up when I told Kix that I couldn’t be more traumatised than I already was, because then I had to explain why, and maybe Echo and Fives have overheard. And Ahsoka blackmailed me until I told her, but that’s all! I talked to them, they won’t spread it any further.”

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure how successful that talk had been, considering that the 212^th battalion had already known about it based on Cody’s report. He sighed in resignation, not even sure where to start. “Anakin, if there was one thing you could have taken away from the conversation yesterday, it’s that relationships shouldn’t be treated as a dirty secret.” He paused, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Not that… This isn’t… Well, this is exactly what I want to talk about, please just sit down.”

His padawan did, crossing his arms and pouting as his eyes kept returning to Cody. “I’d say I’m sorry to interrupt, but you’re the one who told me to come here.”

“No problem, General Skywalker.” Cody stood up with a sudden movement, stepping to Obi-Wan’s side. “I was about to leave anyway.”

Obi-Wan had already learned that the commander was harder to read than most, so he wasn’t surprised to find the expression of the other man to be suited for a high-stakes sabacc party. He appeared just as level-headed as ever; if he was frustrated by the exchange, he gave no sign of it.

What he had not expected, however, was for Cody to place a hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, gently squeeze it while leaning in, and say, “See you tomorrow, honey.”

He felt himself blush at the endearment, but he did not have time to dwell on it, as it was quickly followed by a whisper through gritted teeth, only meant for the older Jedi’s ears. “Please, knock some sense into him.”

The commander proceeded to stride across the room, saying goodbye to Anakin by giving him a curt nod, leaving them to a discussion Obi-Wan suddenly didn’t feel ready for.

-

A few hours later, as Obi-Wan glanced at his desk, he was surprised to find a handwritten note on top of the usual chunk of flimsisheets awaiting his signature.

‘I don’t mind keeping this up, sir, but please refrain from damaging my reputation any further.’

Even if he hadn’t recognised the meticulously curved letters, there was no mistaking where it came from. And surely enough, he found that the flimsi below, titled Consensual Relationship Agreement had already been filled out, including Obi-Wan’s part – a small reminder of how much his commander knew about him.

His own signature remained the only missing detail to validate it.

-

Cody could hardly believe that they had managed to complete a mission according to plan without any unexpected complications.

Even as they were headed back to the ship, he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that had settled like a stone in his stomach. Although that sensation might also be attributed to Rex’s deathly glare that had been focused on him the whole time, like an ice vulture set on its prey.

He knew he could not avoid his brother for much longer without arousing even more suspicion. He realised that his luck had run out as he was cornered in the mess, as he was looking for a place to sit with a tray in his hands.

“Don’t even try,” Rex snarled at him instead of greeting him. “I know your schedule is cleared for the next two hours.” He gestured for Cody to sit down at the nearest table. “You can start by explaining yourself.”

“What is there to ex–“ Cody tried to play dumb, a desperate attempt, but Rex’s scowl was enough to cut him off.

“Want to try that again?”

Perhaps Rex wasn’t the best liar, but his angry frowns would have been put to good use during interrogations. Cody was torn between feeling intimidated and not wanting to be the target of his little brother’s fury any longer.

“I am in a committed relationship with General Kenobi,” the commander said with a straight face, and started eating to fill the uncomfortable silence that followed.

On paper, at least, he added to himself inwardly.

“Nope.” Rex held his hands up in mock-surrender, his fork clattering as it hit his plate. “I still don’t buy it. Either you’re pulling my legs or the Kaminoans dropped you on your head one too many times. Remind me again, how did you get that scar of yours?

Cody decided not to give in to the teasing quite that easily. “You know I wouldn’t joke around with something like this.”

This was half-true.

It didn’t feel like a joke. More like an elaborate plan to get back at Skywalker with a lecture that was long overdue. He certainly wouldn’t have jumped at the opportunity to help his general out if he hadn’t seen firsthand the consequences of the young Jedi’s hotheadedness.

Skywalker was overly self-assured and too reckless for his own good. But even if Cody had been willing to excuse his arrogance, it was only a matter of time before his constant disobedience of direct orders, and complete disregard for the chain of command became measurable in lives that could have been spared otherwise. He had always been glad to assist in disciplining General Skywalker in any way; making him gape like a Mon Calamari stranded without a water tank had been an unexpected bonus.

Meanwhile, Rex, true to his strategist self, decided to take a different approach.

“So, you and him?”

The growing grin on his blond brother’s face increasingly unnerved Cody, so he only responded with a jerky nod, expecting that the worst of the verbal assault was yet to come.

“So,” Rex continued relentlessly, ”you mean to tell me that when Fox called you Kenobi’s lapdog, as you may recall–“

Cody did recall, as well as all the other insults their brother was inclined to use.

Fox doesn’t have a general anyway, he wouldn’t know, he thought to himself, childishly feeling the need to retaliate, but he only said a warning out loud, gritting his teeth, “Stop it, Rex.”

But his brother did not. “…and Wolffe warned you that duty and devotion did not mix well–“

There was something else on that list starting with ‘D’.

“Just shut it,” Cody interjected again, fearing he knew where the conversation was going.

“…and Bly said you were a lost cause, because you were already smitten with your general–“

Takes one to know one.

“Enough.”

“…So they were right all along?” Rex asked finally, with a smug smile and an eyebrow lifted in question.

Cody felt trapped, for the second time that day, and there was no way out with his pride still intact. His first instinct was to deny the accusations to prove his brothers wrong, just as he had done it billions of times before. He could do it, of course, General Kenobi would understand, they would probably have a laugh about it and the rumours would eventually die down.

 It would also undermine the whole argument he was trying to make and he couldn’t afford to lose his ground over his sibling’s bickering.

“Fine, yes, I admit, I had a crush on him and you all had called it,” he whispered with a defeated sigh. “There’s no point in teasing now, it’s official. I can show you the paperwork.”

Both of Rex’s eyebrows shot up near his hairline as he scoffed, “How romantic.”

“It’s procedure.”

To Cody’s disappointment, Rex’s grumpy expression didn’t fade just yet. “I still don’t get it. I understand why you wouldn’t want everyone to know, but I’m not just anyone, am I? I told you about all my flings and whatnot, and you keep something this serious from me?”

There was a sharp and remorseful pang in Cody’s chest.

“I’m sorry, Rex.” He hoped he sounded as apologetic as he felt. He had been inconsiderate of how this act would affect his little brother. “I wish you hadn’t found out this way. But… It was best to avoid the unwanted attention of the Jedi Council.”

That was, at the very least, halfway true.

“Is that why we were recalled back to Coruscant?” Rex mused, finishing the rest of his food.

“What?”

“We’ve just altered course, about half an hour ago. I thought my general was the one in trouble, but in light of this…”

“Great,” Cody groaned. “If Skywalker could pull one of his stupid stunts right now, it would be much appreciated.”

“I’m afraid the only way out of this for you is if you eject yourself into space, because you wouldn’t last a day as a civilian.”

Cody tried not to take offence at the comment, but he must have failed, if Rex’s burst of laughter was any indication.

“Your boyfriend asked me to let you know there’ll be a meeting to read us all in, but he’s busy right now.”

Cody took that as his cue to leave, having had enough of being on the receiving end of the brotherly teasing. He stood up, suddenly eager to return to the bridge – which was exactly when his ears caught a deliberately loud whisper.

”Not everyone can kark his way through the ranks.”

It must have come from a shiny, unaware of who was sitting in his immediate area. Or someone simply stupid enough not to care. But Cody knew better than to waste his time trying to find the culprit.

He cleared his throat to get the attention of the men around him, and soon the whole room was hushed into silence.

“If anyone here,” he announced, his voice ringing in the sudden quiet, “has a problem with my relationship, you are all welcome to say it to my face. In case any of you believe it makes me unfit for command, please fill out form CI-68653. Otherwise, it’s none of your concern.”

As the commander had suspected, no one had any objections as he turned to leave the mess.

“Which form do we need to submit to congratulate you, sir?” A cheerful voice he recognised as Wooley’s asked, and some others joined in, nodding and humming in agreement. Someone started clapping.

Cody decided not to dignify that with an answer. But, as he left the mess hall and the chattering got louder behind his back, filling the room once again, he couldn’t repress the smile that crept onto his face.

-

Cody was infinitely grateful that their little performance hadn’t ended up disrupting the routine he had formed with his general in-between assignments. At the end of each day, they would gather in one of their quarters to get through their share of the paperwork, drinking tea, and spending long hours in amicable silence, occasionally breaking it to ask for suggestions or swap stories to keep themselves awake.

This was one such time, with the exception that he was handed a mug full of freshly brewed caf.

“Out of tea, sir?”

“No, I have a full pot, if you want some.” The general lifted his own cup, brimming with the usual green, floral-smelling liquid. “But I keep getting the feeling you don’t even like tea.”

Cody tried not to look too sheepish as he admitted, “Frankly, not really, sir.”

The general looked baffled, as if Cody didn’t just confirm what he had already suspected. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

It felt nice, Cody thought to himself, to share something with you. To watch you fussing with the tea leaves, mumbling about the importance of the right water temperature, and always keeping in mind to fill my cup first.

He said none of that aloud.

“It was drinkable,” he suggested instead, which was the most honest compliment he could come up with to defend himself.

“That wasn’t tea, Commander,” Kenobi said, shaking his head incredulously, amusement clear in his voice, “that was straight up sugar syrup.”

Cody felt himself flush, so he averted his gaze from the small wrinkles around the general’s eye that gathered there every time he genuinely smiled. He took a swig from the caf instead, hoping he could blame the redness of his cheeks on the heat radiating from the mug.

They had settled into their usual seats quickly enough, but their workflow was soon interrupted as Kenobi looked up from his datapad and said, ”I was thinking, and I would prefer if you didn’t call me ‘sir’ when we’re off duty. Especially considering our recent arrangement.”

Cody raised an eyebrow in question. “When are we ever off duty, sir?”

“In-between missions. Outside of briefings and meetings. Late night paperwork definitely doesn’t count.”

“If you say so, sir.”

“You’re not trying very hard to sell this, are you?” The general’s voice wasn’t scolding, but it might have been laced with a hint of discernible disappointment.

“Old habits die hard,” the commander quipped, but he found it strange that Kenobi didn’t return to his datapad, keeping his eyes fixated on Cody instead. “Anything else on your mind, sir?” Thinking better of it, he rephrased the question, “Anything else on your mind?”

“Was there any backlash?”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” he answered honestly, knowing what his general meant. At least he hoped they wouldn’t receive an influx of reports regarding his supposed incompetence.

“Good. That’s good,” Obi-Wan murmured. “Anakin asked me to meditate with him today. Something we haven’t done since he was a padawan learner.”

The smile spreading across the Jedi’s face was a clear indicator that he considered that a sign of progress.

“Did he share anything?”

“Not much, but I think some of it is getting to him,“ Obi-Wan acknowledged, before smugly adding, “He asked a lot about you.”

“What did you tell him?” Cody asked, fearing the answer.

“Nothing I wouldn’t repeat back to you, don’t worry. I genuinely talked about you. For once, it’s an advantage that Anakin only hears what he wants to.” Obi-Wan furrowed his brows in confusion. “I can sense your surprise. Do I not tell you I appreciate you often enough, Commander?”

Cody swallowed thickly. He didn’t think he’d let his surprise show on his face. He felt at a loss when being confronted with something so close to a compliment, so he decided to turn it into a joke. “I can set up a reminder in your calendar, sir.”

The Jedi smiled, but his voice was almost pleading, as he tried to object, “Cut the ‘sir’, please, Cody.”

“You slipped first by saying Commander, sir.” Cody looked at him with a stern expression, daring him to disagree.

Kenobi just tipped his head back and laughed.

-

Obi-Wan had learned to cherish every opportunity they were given to relax. As the war went on, shore leaves had become less and less frequent, which meant that the tenday they were about to spend in hyperspace on their way to Coruscant, with no mission in sight to prepare for, almost sounded like a vacation.

This also meant that he was more willing to turn a blind eye if some regulations were discarded on these occasions. There were activities he had openly encouraged, such as friendly sparring or target practice, and he had been glad to supply the men with holovids and holonovels for entertainment. Others he had permitted, or at least decided not to intervene; he had been well aware of the ‘secret’ alcohol stash and never-ending betting pool, but deemed them harmless in the grand scheme of things.

However, there were things that could still surprise him, he had realised, as he stumbled upon a sabacc party in one of the usually empty storage rooms. About a dozen of his and Anakin’s men were sitting around a crate that had been repurposed as a table, and was covered in piles of credit chips and colourful, triangular cards. Some of the men were deeply immersed in the game, while others were only observing from the side.

“I didn’t realise we were boarded by pirates,” he exclaimed, calling attention to himself. Embarrassment and panic vibrated in the air.

“Sir,” Boil, who was usually expected to be found in the middle of mischief, was the first to speak up. “It’s not what it looks like.”

“Really?” Obi-Wan inquired with feigned confusion. “Because I could have sworn this was an illicit game of sabacc.”

Boil just gawked at him in response.

Wooley, on the other hand, turned to the general and posed the question for which he immediately received a slap upside the head from his neighbour:

“Care to join, sir?”

Obi-Wan did not hesitate to take him up on the offer.

“Certainly, if no one has any objections,” he said, looking around the room, stunned and relieved faces staring back at him. “Although I don’t think I’ve seen these cards before.”

Boil seemed to have recovered from his surprise, quickly taking over the conversation. “You could sit out a few rounds to get the hang of it, sir. This is our own version,” he explained and showed a sample of the cards. Obi-Wan could clearly identify the four classic suits – Flasks, Sabers, Staves, and Coins – in spite of the unusual colours and iconography. “But it’s pretty standard. Aim for twenty-three, no dice, low-stakes. We didn’t change the names or anything, but the symbols might need some getting used to.”

Obi-Wan raised a hand to his chin, stroking his beard in thought as he examined the makeshift table in front of him. He could see why Boil had described it as ‘low-stakes’, the credits placed in the pots did not amount to a whole lot. He found it reassuring that his men weren’t harbouring a gambling addiction, but seemingly played for the sake of the game.

The small selection of cards displayed in front of him included the Saber Seven, the Stave Four, the Flask Commander, and The Star. The one that was unlike anything he had encountered before depicted an intricate drawing of a B1-series battle droid. He lifted the card up. “This one is The Idiot, I presume?”

Wooley beamed at him, confirming his suspicion with an enthusiastic nod. Obi-Wan could sense the tension ease in the room, as some others laughed out loud. The realisation must have set in that he wasn’t going to reprimand them. He settled on a crate nearby, and after three rounds, he felt like he was brushed up on the rules.

“No offence, sir,” Fives called him out, as he was about to join the game, “but can’t you read minds and shit? That’s not exactly a level playing field.”

Obi-Wan laughed at the wording but appreciated the underlying honesty. “I can shield myself from your emotions, so that I can rely only on your expressions and telltale signs, just like anyone else playing sabacc. Of course, you’d have to take my word for it.”

“That’s alright, sir,” Fives conceded, and no one raised a voice in dispute.

They started playing with the same amount of teasing that Obi-Wan had witnessed during the demonstration. They laughed at poor Wooley, who couldn’t hide his grimace when his luck had turned for the worse. Crys gave himself away quite early on, as every time he was dealt a favourable card, he looked around furtively to catch anyone peeking, while Thesh's tell was that he kept rubbing his eyes rather conspicuously. Those who hadn't joined the game had placed bets on how many cards with a face value of five would end up in Fives’s hands at the end of each round.

Obi-Wan felt Trapper’s eyes practically glaring at him.

“You must have a telltale sign as well, sir.”

“I am not aware I have one,” he said, and it was true. As Trapper did not look away, he added in jest, “Do you think the cards in my hand will turn see-through if you keep staring at them?”

This was when Fives saw the perfect opportunity to chime in with the pun he must have been eager to share: “In any case, we know that there’s at least one Commander in General Kenobi’s hands.”

By said general’s conservative estimate, every single one of the men present burst out laughing.

“Very witty, Fives,” Obi-Wan countered flatly, but was unable to stop the corners of his mouth from twitching upwards.

“Fives, you broke him, he smiled!” Wooley exclaimed at the sight.

“I wouldn’t call that a smile.” A voice came from behind them, and Obi-Wan turned to find his aforementioned commander standing in the doorway with his arms folded and head tilted sideways, taking in the scene before him.

Obi-Wan felt the earlier rush of panic return to the room so overwhelmingly that he had no chance to brace himself against it. Did the men expect Cody to report them or were they afraid he caught their earlier innuendo?

“You can join the next round, Cody,” he offered hastily, his tentative smile turning into an outright grin. “This one will be over soon.”

Only he, Boil and Jinx were left in the game. The commander only gave him a nod in response.

Boil ended up winning, with the near perfect score of twenty-two. Obi-Wan was content with taking the second place, having collected seventeen points, as the values on Jinx’s cards only totalled twelve.

But before Boil could have swept the small piles of credits into his lap, Cody’s hand gripped his wrist, wiping the victorious grin off of his face.

“Not so fast, Boil.” The commander’s voice was not unlike the one he would use during a training session, demanding attention. “You forgot to account for the card you've tucked up your sleeve.”

Surely enough, the Coin Nine appeared from its hideaway up the sleeve of Boil’s black garment, as he placed it on the table, sulking. The goal of the game was to have a total as close to twenty-three as possible, exceeding that meant disqualification.

“Obi-Wan won,” Cody confirmed, as if it was needed.

Obi-Wan beamed at him, not at the prospect of the winnings, but because he was called by his first name. The men around them either didn’t notice or didn’t mind.

The commander eventually announced, “I’ll play, but Boil doesn’t get to deal out the deck.”

Boil opened his mouth, presumably to object to the unilateral arrangement, but seeing the glare of his immediate superior made him choke on his words. He handed the deck to Jynx with a sigh of resignation instead.

The next two rounds were won by Obi-Wan and Cody respectively, and when the final one came around, the general was still unable to tell what the latter man’s weak spot was. Most of their men were easy enough to read; he could observe Trapper’s growing annoyance, as he came up second both times and kept frowning at his cards, Wooley, on the other hand, was visibly pleased with the hand he was dealt, his mouth twitching upwards every now and then. The commander remained inscrutable.

Looking at his cards, if Obi-Wan had believed in luck, he would have found it had abandoned him for the second time during the game. Fortunately, bluffing was something he had been accustomed to, and not just because he had used the tactic to win the first round. It was simple enough, to smile jovially from time to time, like he forgot about himself for a moment.

He kept finding that his gaze returned to Cody, trying to figure out the man whose face was completely blank every time he looked at his hands. Every now and then, the commander glimpsed the table with his eyes squinted slightly, the same way he did maps and blueprints during briefings, and kept eyeing his opponents with a grim expression he wore on the battlefield. His nostrils quivered every once in a while, and Obi-Wan wondered whether that was an involuntary response.

There was something about Cody that drew his eyes back to him. Of course, he was familiar with the scar encircling Cody’s left eye, like a crescent moon with a sprig creeping up to his forehead; he could have drawn its shape from memory. But apart from that, he got a feeling he couldn’t quite place, similar to the one that came over him when he was staring up at the ominous statues of the Jedi Temple.

And then their eyes met, and Obi-Wan realised that Cody’s eyes had nothing in common with that of the faraway statues; they were so dark that one could get lost in them, almost gleaming and full of warmth. And then the commander’s face moved for the first time in what must have been minutes, tilting his head to the side, his right eyebrow arched in question.

Obi-Wan was abruptly awakened from his temporary stupor. It was his turn. He cleared his throat awkwardly, breaking eye contact, and made his move.

The party ended soon after, with Trapper’s indisputable victory, followed by Cody, Wooley, and himself.

-

The men must have realised that their leadership was more lenient than they had thought. The sabacc games were no longer kept secret, implying that Obi-Wan and Cody were welcome to return for a rematch anytime.  They had even received an in-person invitation for a holonight – meaning that someone had sent Wooley to drag the general and his commander away from their datapads.

“I know I don’t have a great sabacc face,” Wooley chattered, as he was leading them down the corridor. “But the general was unreadable!”

“The general can’t bluff,” Cody grumbled in response.

Obi-Wan almost came to a surprised halt.

“Excuse me, my dear,” he said, feeling the need to defend his own honour. “If I recall correctly, I beat you fair and square, because I can, in fact, bluff.”

“That was before I had you figured out. You have a telltale sign, everyone does, I suppose,” the commander stated simply.  And then went on to explain, shattering the Jedi’s remaining self-confidence. ”You smile when you’re bluffing, but those smiles don’t quite reach your eyes. Kind of like the ones you put up when you’re meeting insufferable politicians.”

Obi-Wan was curious whether the man who had read him like an open book had a tell on his own, but he didn’t feel desperate enough to ask him directly.

“I’ll have you know, my dear, I’ve bluffed myself out of hostage situations before,” he said instead sharply, with a hint of mock-offence in his voice.

“It’s a good thing, we’re on the same side of the war, then,” Cody countered, and winked as he held the door to their ad hoc holodrama theatre open. The cheeky bastard.

It hadn’t escaped Obi-Wan’s notice that something had shifted in their dynamic with Cody. He presumed it was to be expected, an official announcement and being on a first-name basis wasn’t enough to suggest a romantic relationship, but it had been the commander who had started to seek physical contact. Subtle details. Their fingers intertwining when handing over a datapad, their shoulders brushing when passing each other on the corridor, and leaning against the other after standing through never-ending meetings.

And Obi-Wan had followed Cody’s lead more than willingly. He might have felt the urge to do these things before, he simply had no reason to hold back anymore. He used to forgo physical contact, unsure whether the more restrained commander would appreciate it, but he was glad to reciprocate the small gestures.

Obi-Wan had also come to recognise that Cody had initiated contact more frequently when his brothers were present, especially if that included Rex. The realisation had made his gut clench uncomfortably, but he had decided not to dwell on it. He could address any underlying reasons during his next meditation session.

At least he could be sure the commander wouldn’t mind the closeness, as they took their seat around the holoprojector surrounded by the watchful eyes of his padawan, his grandpadawan, and a good number of their men. He wrapped an arm around Cody tentatively, relieved when he felt the other man lean against him without hesitation.

The holodrama – based on his creeping suspicion, the selection had been the courtesy of Anakin – turned out to be forgettable. It revolved around the forbidden romance between a bounty hunter and the man she had taken as bounty, and included numerous overdramatic twists and cheesy lines of dialogue. Obi-Wan didn’t complain, he would have chosen the light-hearted distraction over the war holos some of the men favoured anytime.

Cody, on the other hand, must have held a differing opinion, as he audibly groaned during one of the more romantic scenes, during which the protagonist attended to her captive’s wounds and they stared at each other longingly for an extended period of time. Cody was immediately shot down by Anakin’s shushing and annoyed scowl.

Following an action sequence showing the characters’ miraculous escape, Cody turned to Obi-Wan. “How did they do that?” he whispered, no doubt to avoid infuriating Anakin even further. “Are they all secretly Force-sensitive?”

Obi-Wan could barely keep his laughter at bay, it took him a good amount of self-restraint and the recitation of a meditation mantra to compose himself. But Cody must have caught a hint of his amusement, because he kept murmuring silly commentary in a low voice until the holodrama ended, as if testing whether he could break the general’s concentration.

Afterwards, Anakin came up to them, shooting daggers with his eyes in their direction. “You two are insufferable.”

“I did my best, General,” Cody replied boldly with a grin.

And this was the last straw for Obi-Wan, unable to resist the laughter bubbling up in his throat anymore. The commander had to pull him into a half-embrace to keep him from doubling over.

His padawan just huffed at the sight. “I’ll bring this up next time you say I’m being immature.”

The chided general and his commander shared a playful look that lasted a moment too long.

Cody seemed to have caught a glimpse of something from the corner of his eyes, and then, taking advantage of the proximity, he pressed his lips against Obi-Wan’s right cheek, barely giving him a peck. Obi-Wan’s eyes fluttered shut a moment later, and he couldn’t help but lean towards him, extending an arm to keep him close.

But Cody pulled away, freeing himself from the clumsy embrace. As he withdrew, it became clear that they had been in Rex’s line of sight all along. The blond man was sitting right behind his brother, with arms folded and brows knitted together, seemingly deep in thought.

The view sent a sharp pang to Obi-Wan’s heart, the warmth he had felt blooming in his chest completely gone.

-

“We’re expected to land on Coruscant tomorrow,” Obi-Wan informed him. He must have known Cody was well aware of their itinerary because he went on to explain, “I assume the Council will take the opportunity and interrogate me regarding my potential attachment to you.”

“Do you have any reservations, sir?” Cody asked, still unsure of the reason the general had decided to bring it up. Did the Jedi get cold feet, now that the Council was aware, and there might be consequences to their little stunt?

Cody was the one who had first crossed the imaginary barrier between them, right at the start, when he had touched the general’s shoulder to whisper an endearment in his ears. And Obi-Wan had played along, by pulling the commander into his arms at times, stroking his hands gently at others, and openly addressing him as my dear. It had been painfully easy for Cody to fall into this new routine, not having to hide his stolen glances or retrieve his hands that had been eager to reach out.

With the exception of Rex, no one else seemed to question the authenticity of their relationship, and even his brother backed off following the events of the holo night. He hadn’t acknowledged his defeat, but he had stopped scrutinising every single interaction between Cody and his general. He must have underestimated the lengths Cody would go to in order to keep up appearances.

It might have been Rex’s prying glare on his back that had nudged him to lean forward that night; but if he was honest with himself, Cody had to admit that appearances were the last thing on his mind once his lips brushed the soft skin of Obi-Wan’s cheek. He recalled the general’s eyes widening in surprise, that had almost made him pull back right away, but relief had flooded him once he had felt an arm around his waist tugging him closer, and a forehead pressing against his own.

They hadn’t mentioned it since, and it seemed like it wasn’t going to be their current topic of conversation either.

“No, no. I rather think it’ll be good for Anakin. He’ll see it’s nothing to be afraid of,” Obi-Wan mused, raising his hand to his chin. “But I suppose we should get our story straight before we arrive so that we can avoid eventual contradictions. Even though you probably won’t be questioned.”

He waited for Cody to look at him before he spoke again, his voice turned serious. “Do you have any reservations, Cody?”

“Won’t the Council realise you’re lying to them?”

It was a question that had made Cody feel uneasy for a while.

He reckoned it was a well-founded concern. The Jedi might not be able to read minds, but surely, they could tell if someone was deceiving them. And those who had earned a seat on the Council were among the most powerful.

The older man’s face did not seem to mirror his concern.

“I might have to get a bit creative at times, but I plan on telling them the truth – from a certain point of view.”

“I hope you’re better at twisting the truth than you are at bluffing,” Cody commented wryly, not at all reassured by his general’s reasoning.

Obi-Wan’s smile turned into a bittersweet smirk. “Well, my unintended ambiguity had started this whole ordeal, so I am confident in my ability to replicate it.”

So they attempted to set up a timeline of events regarding their make-believe relationship and clarify any details the Council might be interested in. At Cody’s suggestion, they agreed that they should present it as a recent development to avoid any backlash for leaving the affair undisclosed. They also established that they must have declared their feelings long before that, otherwise it might seem like an impulsive decision, which definitely wouldn’t help their case.

“And how did you fall for me?” Cody asked jokingly, raising an eyebrow, riding a wave of self-assurance that came over him. He half-expected the Jedi to shrug in response or ignore his question altogether, hearing the provocative tone.

“When I was tending to your wounds, of course. Force knows that has happened enough times. Our eyes locked, we shared a moment, and that was it,” the general explained offhandedly, like he was delivering a well-practised anecdote.

It sounded like a suspiciously detailed answer for Cody’s liking. He was willing to let it slide, until realisation dawned on him. “You took that from that sappy holodrama we were forced to watch the other night!”

“I might have,” Obi-Wan said with a poorly hidden smile, amused creases appearing around his eyes, “but it’s more romantic than saying ‘I just looked over my datapad one day’, which is how we spend most of our time alone together.”

Cody couldn’t argue with that, he just hoped that for both their sakes, the other councillors didn’t share Skywalker’s love for cheesy romanctic holodramas.

Chapter 2: Coruscant

Summary:

In this chapter everyone is talking and freaking out.

The first few hours Cody had spent back on Coruscant had barely felt like an actual leave. He’d been busy overseeing the troops’ arrival, giving directions to shinies, submitting reports, and even taking precautions by scolding the most troublesome cadets in advance. He knew the latter was in vain, but at least he could let them go on their way with a clear conscience.

Finally, having taken care of every task that required his urgent attention, he was about to head to the barracks, only to find General Kenobi at the entrance, clearly expecting him.

“I was wondering if I could steal you for the duration of a meal, Commander,” he said as he spotted Cody, closing the distance between them with a few elegant strides.

Said commander quirked one eyebrow, the way he always did when he was playfully challenging his general. “We’re off duty, sir.”

“Point taken, Cody,” the Jedi conceded, but a line appeared between his brows. “Or are you implying that you wouldn’t want to spend your free time with me?”

“I can make an exception,” Cody said, his lips forming a small smile, hopefully making his intentions clear. “I’ll just drop my gear off, it won’t take a moment,” he added, gesturing at the sack he still held onto, not having had the chance to unpack.

Obi-Wan must have realised the implications, because he shot him an apologetic look. “I can wait here. You’re welcome to change and get ready, I’m not in a hurry.”

Cody stopped for a moment, trying to assess how much of that statement was said out of politeness, but the idea of getting into the fresher sounded too appealing to turn down the offer.

“I’ll be back in fifteen,” he said at last, gave a jerky nod and took off.

When he returned, smelling fresh and wearing the only decent set of civvies he could get his hands on, he found the general to be at the centre of attention. He supposed it was to be expected, the Jedi were an unusual sight near the clones’ accommodation.

“Shall we, my dear?” Obi-Wan asked, an arm outstretched in Cody’s direction, while examining the plain grey clothes he wore with such intent, that Cody started to wonder whether he had misread the situation and should have opted for his armour instead.

The small group of shinies surrounding them exchanged a few knowing looks, but didn’t say a word as they watched their commander loop his arm through the Jedi’s. If only new regulations spread as fast as gossip did among their men – Cody and Rex could implement a new set of security codes and emergency protocols in a matter of hours.

They walked in step, Cody so consumed by his thoughts that it took him more than a few seconds to realise they were headed the wrong way. He had assumed they would either visit the Temple or the cafeteria near the barracks where the clones usually grabbed their food when they were stationed on Coruscant.

“Don’t worry, I’m not abducting you,” Obi-Wan teased, probably sensing his confusion, and pointed in the direction of the nearby hovertrain station. “I would prefer not to take a speeder, it’s only a couple of stops away.”

He proceeded to slip an object into Cody’s hand, a thin piece of plastoid not much bigger than a credit chip, and used his own to open one of the gates barring the station. Cody followed his lead, imitating the way Obi-Wan had held it against the sensor, and stepped through the entrance.

A train was already waiting on the side of the platform, ready for departure.

“Let’s not wait for the next one,” the Jedi said, and without further ado, grabbed Cody’s wrist and started dragging him across the station, making their way through the gathering crowd.

The train had been moving when they managed to jump aboard, all the other doors shut, while the one they entered through remained wide open until they were safely settled in the carriage.

Cody knew better than to think it was sheer luck. “If that isn’t a blatant misuse of the Force, I don’t know what is,” he murmured.

Obi-Wan just shrugged in response, then strolled to the side and reached up to grab a handle, letting go of Cody’s hand. Glancing around, Cody couldn’t help but feel out of place, as though he stood out even without his armour, but the passengers around them either didn’t notice or didn’t seem to mind their unconventional arrival.

It was a lot to take in. Everyone seemed busy, buzzing with purpose and eager to get to their destination. A group of children were tapping excitedly on their datapads; a Trandoshan woman was comming someone to pass the time, her chattering filled the whole car. The seat next to her was occupied by a senator’s aide Cody vaguely recognised, her brow furrowed with visible concern as she bent over a stack of important-looking flimsisheets. Some were carrying huge sacks full of goods from the markets or large, unmarked crates, while others were accompanied by droids of all shapes and sizes.

It all seemed awfully mundane, an eerie reminder that the war didn’t affect everyone equally. For the majority, life went on. They were only aware of the unfolding events from the news, numbers favouring one side or the other, headlines featuring names of faraway planets. Glimpses of distanced reports and disinfected facts.

But could he blame them, if it meant that there were people who would never have to see the flashing light of blaster bolts, hear the metallic footsteps of marching clankers or recognise the smell of burning flesh?

His thoughts were abruptly interrupted as the train came to a halt, making him lose his balance for a second. Obi-Wan steadied him, grasping his forearm, and huddled even closer once the doors opened and the influx of newcomers took up all remaining space. Cody felt his face burn with embarrassment for being caught off guard, but he couldn’t possibly step away. He resorted to reaching up to hold onto a handle with his free hand.

Luckily, they got off at the next stop, putting an end to the tantalising prospect of being pressed up against his general for an extended period of time. Cody quickly ascertained that they were on one of the upper levels of the city, and although some of the structures nearby seemed rather worn-down, rust eating their durasteel frame, he could spot the Senate Building in the distance, which meant that they weren’t too far from the Federal District.

He let himself be led blindly across the station and down a less crowded street.

“Obi-Wan,” he said after a few seconds of silence. For one, because he could, and secondly because he was deliberately trying to grab the general’s attention. “You didn’t actually tell me where we were going.”

“It’s an old friend’s place.” Came the ambiguous reply. “I’m confident you’ll like it, Cody.”

The commander recognised when a fight wasn’t worth fighting and followed Obi-Wan the rest of the way without another word.

The small diner they eventually entered looked nothing like Cody had expected from a place run by a friend of the Jedi. It was loud and lively, filled with ceaseless chatter and upbeat music. The booth nearest to them was occupied by a pair of Bothans exchanging small, unmarked packages and stacks of credit chips over the table; a helmeted woman sitting on a barstool was openly looking at a bounty puck, the blue holo flickered with the image of a rather ragged-looking Toydaran. The couple of Ugnaughts on the other side must have stopped by right after their shifts ended, still wearing their grease-stained clothes and safety helmets.

None of them threw a clone and a Jedi a second glance.

A group of Rodians just got up, leaving the booth next to the Bothans empty for them, and Obi-Wan gestured for Cody to take a seat. The second they sat down, a waitdroid appeared seemingly out of thin air.

“What can I get ya, hon?” she asked, her wheels rolling in place impatiently.

“We’ll take a look at the menu,” Obi-Wan replied with a polite smile.

“How about two cups of Jawa juice to help you decide?”

The Jedi accepted with a courteous nod, and the droid was already halfway to the next table as he called after her, “If Dex is in, please let him know that I’ve brought a special friend along.”

Barely a few minutes later, Cody was sipping the juice from a tall metal cup. It was sweet and tangy and prickled his tongue.

The wide array of foods he had never heard of listed on the menu was intimidating. Obi-Wan explained that the reason so many exotic items were offered was that the owner was well-travelled across the galaxy, and was inspired by the cuisine he had encountered. That didn’t make the choice any easier.

In the end, they decided upon the banthaburgers, paired with one blue milkshake and one flavoured with Jogan fruit, the latter at the Jedi’s insistence. Their orders were taken right away, and they didn’t have to sit around for long for a young woman in a tight blush pink dress to come up to them.

“Here you go,” she said, placing the plates and glasses on the table. Cody silently admired her ability to balance so many trays at once. “Boss said he’ll be out in a minute. If I can get you anything else, just shout.”

“Thank you, dear,” Obi-Wan said, “we’ll wait for him, then.”

The waitress moved on, and Obi-Wan laid his hand over the tabletop, palm facing upwards, waiting for Cody to take it – and he did.

But it wasn’t enough to distract him, as Cody’s eyes caught the flicker of something small, oval-shaped and metallic in colour that the Jedi was busy fishing out of his plate with his free hand and hiding it in the cover of his robes. A datachip, if he had to make an educated guess.

He withheld the sudden urge to pull his hand back from Obi-Wan’s grip.

“Obi-Wan!” Came a shout from the direction of the kitchen. “I don’t believe my eyes! It’s been too long, buddy.”

The more than enthusiastic voice belonged to a Besalisk man, who seemed to be overjoyed with their unannounced visit. The general stood up to greet him and was promptly pulled into a bone-crushing hug.

 “And you’ve actually brought someone,” the Besalisk exclaimed, looking Cody up and down with squinted eyes. An ear to ear smile stretched across his face as he added, “I take it you didn’t leave Kamino empty-handed, huh?”

The Jedi’s face turned as red as the seats in the booth they occupied.

“Cody, this is the friend I was talking about, the owner of this fine establishment.” Obi-Wan didn’t sit back to his place but moved next to Cody, leaving the other side of the table for the new joiner and went on with the introduction. “Dex, this is Commander Cody, my second-in-command and Marshal Commander of the Third Systems Army, including the 212^th attack battalion, of course.”

Dex’s grin grew even wider, showing all his teeth, as he shook Cody’s hands.

“That’s an awful lotta words to describe someone, Obi-Wan, without giving much away,” he said, shaking his head in mock disapproval. “Your food’s gonna get cold. Dig in, you two.”

“How are you doing, my friend?” Obi-Wan asked, picking up his burger obediently and taking a bite.

Cody followed suit, and he had to admit that the food alone was worth the visit. Unlike anything they had been served in the mess, it was full of flavour and a tinge of spices, but more importantly, it also had texture. The bun was soft, the meat was juicy, the fresh vegetables crunched under his teeth, and all of it was soaked in a zesty sauce that made his hands increasingly messy with each bite.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed, but the channelfish sandwich you fancied is off the menu. It’s getting harder and harder to source some of the ingredients,” Dex sighed, “but I can’t nag about the war to someone like ya, can I?”

“The war doesn’t spare anyone.” Obi-Wan’s smile turned wry, but he didn’t seem to mind that he had to compromise on his order.

“No, it doesn’t.” The waitress droid (FLO, judging by the nametag), rolled around and placed a cup in front of Dex, who took it with a brief nod, downing the whole thing in a swig before continuing. “But as long as there are people who can line their pockets with plenty of credits at the end of the day, it ain’t gonna end.”

Instead of answering, Obi-Wan redirected the conversation towards more pleasant memories, and the Besalisk seemed more than happy to take the opportunity and reminisce about their mutual acquaintances. Eventually, Dex had to return to the kitchen, but refused to let them go without packing them two slices of wasaka berry pie on the house, insisting that it was a rare treat they couldn’t miss out on.

After they left, Cody waited for them to pass a few blocks, and when there were no pedestrians in sight, he blurted out the question burning on the tip of his tongue, “What’s on it?”

Obi-Wan looked over at him, his eyes widened in realisation. “Ah, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you caught me.”

“You’re less subtle than Boil trying to cheat during a sabacc game,” Cody grunted. It might have been a slight exaggeration, he was fairly certain that no one else around them had caught a glimpse of it. Although, it was also safe to assume that no one had really cared.

“To be fair, Boil fooled everyone but you,” his general countered before letting out a heavy sigh. “It’s intel.”

Cody almost laughed out loud. Getting intel in the middle of a war was a day-to-day task. Going to a run-down diner and putting on a whole act was an unorthodox way of obtaining it, to say the very least. It also implied that their usual sources were deemed either unreliable or compromised.

He replayed the whole encounter in his head in a different light.

“Special friend was code, I assume?”

It had felt so out of place to hear the general say that to the server droid and then being introduced to the owner by citing a list of ranks, not even mentioning the Besalisk’s surprise when he’d caught sight of Cody.

Because I’m not actually his friend, am I? The bitter thought came up like bile in his throat as Obi-Wan nodded in agreement.

“It was. The droid– FLO was supposed to give it to me whether or not I had a chance to meet Dex in person.”

Cody didn’t feel like it was his place to demand further explanation, so they walked wordlessly for a few minutes before the Jedi spoke again.

“Dex helped me find Kamino.” And that wasn’t an opening Cody had expected to hear. “I’m sorry for deceiving you. I know you hate it when I don’t have tangible evidence, but I had a bad feeling and if anyone can help me get to the bottom of it, it’s him. Regardless of whether I’m right or wrong, it wouldn’t be safe to read you in at this point, and not because I don’t trust you.”

Cody was stunned into silence.

“I appreciate the honesty,” he said finally, his eyes downcast on the duracrete of the pavement.

“I trust you with my life, Cody,” Obi-Wan came to a halt and looked up at him, giving the short phrase the emphasis it conveyed. “But if I confided in you now, I would be risking yours in vain.”

The general’s words rang in his ears, muffling out the noise of the crowd on the way back.

-

Despite the circumstances, Obi-Wan did not dare underestimate the importance of the meeting that awaited him. He was still surprised to find how much effort it had taken him to calm his nerves.

He had to make an appearance before the Council first thing in the morning. As he stepped into the room he had become more than familiar with over the years, he looked out the windows to the sea of grey buildings towering over each other, the lines of speeders crossing between them, and the first rays of the rising sun creeping up the horizon, covering it all in a warm orange light. He had assumed that the early appointment was chosen so that it wouldn’t crash with the schedule of the busy councillors.

His own seat wasn’t the only one left empty, but the others were gradually filled, as the holoimages of his colleagues started to appear one by one. To his relief, Anakin had arrived on time, sitting with an attentive expression in his seat, which in itself was a rather unusual sight during Council meetings. He greeted his padawan with a small nod, and turned around to lock eyes with Mace who almost appeared amused by the situation. He could have sworn he caught a fleeting, but encouraging smile from Master Koon, but other than that, he couldn’t get a good reading of the room in the Force; those present were far too skilled to let their emotions roam free.

Master Yoda was the one to break the silence.

“Aware of the reason for this meeting, are you?”

“Well, I’ve never received such a welcome after a successful campaign before.” Obi-Wan smiled wryly. He could feel exasperation seeping into the Force from some of the councillors. Others were used to his manner of speech by now and expected nothing less from him. “So I think I can make a good guess as to what it is you wish to discuss with me.”

Master Tiin spoke up next. “It concerns a form you submitted a while ago.“

“I might need more than that to jog my memory,” Obi-Wan quipped, and soon realised that Master Tiin definitely did not belong to the group of councillors that appreciated his attempt to lighten the mood.

“Regarding your relationship with Clone Trooper Commander CC-2224,” the Iktotchi Master clarified.

Obi-Wan suppressed a flinch, even though he knew exactly that only designations were required on all official forms. “Commander Cody, if you would, Master.”

His request was acknowledged with a curt nod.

“What prompted you to the submission of this form, Master Kenobi?”  

“It was the commander who has pointed out to me that such a disclosure would be a necessary step as per regulations,” he replied truthfully.

Master Tiin’s face remained blank, but he was clearly unsatisfied with the answer, because he pressed on, “Without the Council’s approval?”

“I wasn’t aware that was required.”

Obi-Wan was fairly sure it was not, but he knew better than to outright say so. After all, he still reported to the Council and could be held accountable by them, as Master Tiin did not hesitate to remind him, “You understand that we must examine the implications of this and possibly ask you to resign from your position as a Jedi Knight, in case you are unwilling to terminate the relationship.”

“Please, do go ahead,” he conceded, clasping his hands in front of him, throwing Anakin one last look of reassurance to collect himself.

He was soon swarmed with questions and had barely enough time to process them, scrutinising details in battles he'd fought in long ago and doubting his decision-making. They wanted to know why he had been with Cody all the time, why they had been separated on other instances, who had given which orders and who had called the final shots.

Had it been necessary to take Cody with him to the Citadel? Or had he been too attached to leave him behind? Had there been no other way? Why hadn’t Cody joined the mission to Kadavo, then? Had he been afraid he might get hurt?

He answered calmly, keeping his answers as detailed and honest as he could, not letting the manipulative phrasing of the questions get to him. He suppressed the outrage he felt on Cody’s account. Cody, who was responsible for more units than some other commanders aggregated, and had proven his abilities countless times, just to be implicated like this behind his back. That must have been the goal of the whole interrogation, he realised, to see whether he would lash out, either in defence of his partner or because he was unable to objectively account for his decisions.

“Please, understand that we must consider how this looks, Master Kenobi,” Mace interjected, putting the ceaseless questioning on hold. He was sprawled in his seat, and Obi-Wan wondered whether he also had enough of the verbal dissection leading to nowhere. “Commander Cody is one of the most prominent members of the Grand Army of the Republic. Questioning his authority would mean putting the integrity of the entire army in jeopardy.”

Obi-Wan looked at Mace more intently, seeking his friend’s gaze, but it felt like staring at a duracrete wall. The man sitting across from him wasn’t there in that capacity, it was Councillor Windu trying to make a point, and Obi-Wan wasn’t sure he took his meaning. “I don’t believe that to be the case, Master Windu.”

“It isn’t yet,” Mace confirmed. “And maybe it won’t ever come to that. But it’s a possibility we must take into account nonetheless. In that case, we might be forced to remove the commander from his position and reassign him elsewhere.”

Obi-Wan wanted to cry out in protest, but held himself back; if he couldn’t keep his emotions at bay, it would reflect badly on them both. He had anticipated that the Council would come up with possible repercussions in an attempt to make him lose his ground, but he’d always imagined that he would be on the receiving end of such threats.

Why would Cody have to be the one to suffer for his silly scheme? His commander had done nothing but had tried to make the best of a situation he had been unfairly dragged into.

Cody, who had always followed him with a loyalty he felt undeserving of.

Cody, whom he could always rely on, who was always by his side, akin to a second shadow.

Oh, I’m such a fool.

Suddenly, images of Cody flooded his mind.

Cody by his side, next to the flickering holomaps, leading assaults, and Cody staying behind with him to board the last escape pod.

Cody seeking his gaze across the battlefield one moment, blasting clankers the next, and Cody handing him his lost lightsaber back.

Cody, Cody, Cody.

Cody blushing when Obi-Wan pointed out the clip on his belt that seemed to be made for his saber, and Cody dragging him to the medbay when the commander himself could barely walk on his own.

Cody telling him idle gossip late at night to keep him awake, and Cody hiding a grimace drinking the tea he didn’t even like, and Cody dozing off at his desk, hands still clenching to his datapad, and Cody stifling a burst of laughter during a holodrama, and Cody’s face lit red-blue by the neon lights outside Dex’s window.

I love you.

It was unimaginable to do any of that without him. To lead an army. To return to the 212^th. To figure out the winning strategy. To make a pot of tea. To breathe.

But I’ll let you go if I must.

“I believe that would be an unwise course of action,” Obi-Wan said finally with a steady voice. “The experience and training the commander and his men share is invaluable. If anyone, I should be the one transferred to another battalion.”

-

Cody knew deep down that he needed to hear the harsh truth he would rather not be confronted with, and there was only one person fit to do that (as a matter of fact, there were two, but the other option was off-world, while the one he was headed to was permanently stationed on Coruscant).

Meeting up with his brother was about the only reason he would have set foot in the Senate Building out of his own volition. He was wearing full armour save for his helmet – mainly to make passing through security easier. He was greeted by a few furtive looks and hushed whispers as he strolled through the corridors, a reaction he had gotten used to around decision-makers and their advisors. Some didn’t think they were doing enough to end the war. Others didn’t like the reminder that, in every respect except by definition, human beings were fighting for them.

He had commed ahead to alert Fox that he was coming, which meant that he could walk right into the headquarters of the Coruscant Guard, only to be ceremoniously ignored by his own brother.

Fox seemed so busy that Cody almost felt bad for disturbing him. His hair was unruly and so long, it would have definitely earned him a few extra laps back on Kamino. It also made the few strands of white hair that grew in a patch on the back of his head more noticeable. Visible stubble covered his cheeks, dark circles set under his eyes, and Cody started to think he was only functioning because he was fuelled by the caf he kept chugging down every other minute.

Not even looking up from the stack of flimsisheets on his desk, Fox finally spoke, “I’m just signing off on stuff, I can multitask.”

Cody arched an eyebrow sceptically, but it went unnoticed, as his brother did not bother to lift his eyes up.

“I have a problem,” he said at last, unsure how to start.

“Can it be resolved by blasterfire?”

“Definitely not.”

“Why d’ya come here, then?” Fox asked, glancing up for the first time, his forehead creased in confusion. “Aren’t you tighter with Rex? He’s back and he’s well… Y’know. Better at non-blaster-related stuff.”

There was no edge to his voice, and Cody knew he wasn’t hurt; he simply stated a fact he had observed, namely that Rex and Cody had grown closer since the beginning of the war. However, he wasn’t aware that a talk with Rex would prerequisite at least one heartfelt apology Cody didn’t feel ready for. Not even mentioning the fact that it all could get back to Skywalker.

Besides, even if Rex would have accepted his apology in a heartbeat, Cody wasn’t in need of reassurances or compassionate words, and Fox wouldn’t hesitate to give him a piece of his mind.

“I need the verbal equivalent of blasterfire right now,” he replied sincerely.

And then, seeing Fox’s persistently confused expression, he went on to explain how a small misunderstanding started the metaphorical avalanche that the pretend relationship with his general became, and observed as his brother gradually lost track of scribbling his own name, his stylus hovering an inch above the flimsisheets.

By the end, Fox was only shaking his head vehemently, completely forgotten about the paperwork. “Why in the galaxy would you agree to this?”

“Mostly out of spite.”

Fox shot him an unimpressed glare.

“Cody, you need to stop this. No matter what happens, you’ll always get the short end of the stick. What if you start catching feelings? If the Jedi disapprove? If he finds someone else? Kenobi won’t be the one getting demoted or worse.”

Cody didn’t want to think about what he meant by worse. Ignoring the rest of it, he just smiled sadly and said, ”I already messed up number one.”

“Oh, Cody,” Fox said his name with so much pity, it was almost palpable. He ran a hand through his hair and his lips quirked upwards, but his eyes were missing their usual glint and his voice lacked any real conviction as he went on. “It’s not like a fatal blasterwound, am I right? Nothing some time and distance won’t fix. Just avoid him during your leave. You’ll forget all about it, you’ll see...”

Cody couldn’t find the strength to look his brother in the eye and focused on the stylus Fox was fiddling with instead, as he interrupted the increasingly anxious rambling.

“No, Fox. I agreed to this knowing the feelings were there,” he admitted in a small voice.

They won’t just leave, he didn’t say, but Fox understood.

The silence that followed felt heavy.

“I’m not going to tell you that you’re an idiot, because you already know that,” his brother’s voice was even, his words deliberate. “You also know that you have to put an end to it. You wouldn’t have come to me if you didn’t. But you need to do it before you get hurt even more.

He stopped to comb his fingers through his hair again. He let out a frustrated sigh as his curls refused to stay in place.

“If you can fake date someone, there must be an equivalent of a fake break up. Make a scene or something. Do an announcement.  Just do it soon, for your own good.”

-

Obi-Wan was pacing back and forth in his quarters. He was buzzing with a nervousness he wasn’t used to and hadn’t felt in a long time – probably since Anakin’s trials. He had commed Cody as soon as the Council let him go, only to be informed by a toneless female voice that the recipient was in a meeting at the moment. Obi-Wan had found that strange since they were supposed to be on leave, but he'd left a message asking his commander to meet him at the Temple at his earliest convenience.

As the excitement bubbling up in him refused to die down, he decided to meditate for a while, letting his feelings wash over him, releasing them into the Force. Once he emerged from his trance a few hours later, calm and composed, his datapad was blinking, indicating an incoming text message. ‘I’ll be there in two hours.’

He sighed, not letting his disappointment get to him and ruin the results of hours of concentration. He picked up a holonovel, but found that his thoughts kept wandering off and opted to occupy his hands instead.

He fetched a few ingredients from the Temple’s kitchen and got to work, taking his time peeling the potatoes, boiling and smashing them. He added some flour to knead it all into a soft dough, formed little balls out of it and hid a piece of sweetberry in each of them, then gently dropped the dumplings into boiling water for a few minutes, and was in the process of fishing them out one by one with a spoon, when the door slid open.

At first, Obi-Wan only caught a glimpse of Cody’s head peeking into the room, inexplicably feeling like his heart was about to burst out of his ribcage and the tingling sensation under his skin returned with full force.

The commander called outside, “He’s in here, thank you,” then stepped in, turning to Obi-Wan with a quirked eyebrow, his tone laced with a hint of accusation as he spoke, “You weren’t answering my comms. Also, why don’t you keep your door locked?”

“It’s not like anyone here would rob me,” Obi-Wan murmured, once he felt his initial excitement subside, and quickly added, “I apologise, Cody, I forgot that this would be your first visit and I didn’t realise two hours have passed.”

“More like two and a half, I’ve been here for a while. A youngling had to take mercy on me and show me the way. I think I’ve stumbled into her three times by then,” his commander scoffed and looked around the room.

Obi-Wan followed Cody’s gaze, wondering what he was thinking.

His off-handed comment about robbery was truer than he would have liked it. He didn’t own much, and anything of sentimental value was aboard the Negotiator. He glanced at the stacks of datapads and holonovels buried under a layer of dust by his bed, the mat he used during meditation still unrolled on the floor, and the table next to him covered in flour and potato peels. There was little else to indicate whose quarters they were in.

“Would you like a drink?” At Cody’s slight nod, Obi-Wan handed him a chilled bottle of cider and grabbed one for himself. “You arrived just in time for the dumplings. They’re best freshly served.”

Cody didn’t react to the prospect of food, but chugged down half the bottle of cider with alarming speed. He was positively fretting, and Obi-Wan had seen that same expression countless times before, but never on Cody. It was so unlike him that he decided to break the news, thinking it might ease the tension he felt in the Force from the commander’s direction.

“The Council approved of us. They have deemed me trustworthy enough to know my limits and recognise the signs if I were to become overly attached.”

The revelation did not seem to soothe the commander’s anxiety in the slightest.

“That’s good. I mean… Good for Anakin. I’m sure he’ll come around now,” Cody said, but his voice was unsteady and his lips quivered before forming a forced smile on his face. He was hiding something, or at least not saying what he meant.

Obi-Wan stepped closer and grabbed Cody’s wrist in an attempt to comfort him. He could feel the other man’s pulse if he really concentrated–

And he felt so much more.

Warmth spilled inside him, as if all the power of the morning sun hit him with a single ray of light. Love. A pull in his chest, an invisible hand clenching his stomach. Sadness.  Cold crept under his skin, sucking the air from his lungs. Fear.

But underneath it all, the sunlight prevailed.

These were not his emotions, yet they were projected at him with an intensity he had never felt before. He didn’t mean to pry, but it was impossible to break away.

“Cody,” he said at last, his breath hitched. “Please, correct me if I’ve misread–“

The door to his quarters was torn open.

Anakin stumbled in, almost disoriented, his eyes haunted and red and desperate.

“Master,” he croaked, his voice was barely a whisper, so he repeated, “Master, can we talk?”

-

Once Anakin had showed up in that dishevelled state, Obi-Wan seemed torn; as though he was seriously considering sending his padawan away to finish whatever he was about to say. Cody didn’t leave him a choice, he made his excuses and hastily exited the room.

Cody hadn’t seen Obi-Wan during the following days. He’d only heard from him over the comm, for brief and meaningless talks, but every time the Jedi’s voice was trembling with worry and stress and exhaustion.

He was walking with some of his brothers from the 212^th and the Guard, chatting mindlessly on their way back to the barracks, when he felt his comlink buzzing again. He lagged behind and waited until his brothers were out of earshot to answer it. As he’d suspected, it was Obi-Wan, asking to meet him at the Temple.

Since Fox had been eyeing him suspiciously the whole time, Cody was more than grateful for the excuse to slip away and avoid having to admit that his fake relationship was still ongoing. But once they noticed he was trying to sneak away, his brothers did not let him go without an explanation. Confessing that he was leaving to see his general earned him a few mocking whistles and a look so sharp from Fox that Cody had seriously considered deserting for a moment.

As he was approaching the Temple, he increasingly regretted his promise to arrive so soon; he felt like he barely had the opportunity to clear his head and rehearse what he was about to say.

The building felt less like a maze designed to make him go mad the second time around. He had memorised the route on his way out from Obi-Wan’s quarters, so it was easy enough to trace his steps back. A group of younglings passed him by, and he greeted the familiar Rodian girl with a small wave, but secretly hoped that he wasn’t going to need her assistance again. The girl seemed to recognise him as well, as she raised her hand to her forehead in a clumsy but enthusiastic salute.

He had managed to take all the right turns, because he soon found himself in the middle of Obi-Wan’s room, observing as the other man poured them both a cup of warm caf. Obi-Wan was wearing beige robes and a tired expression, both of which were familiar to Cody, unlike his narrow smile and clouded gaze.

They were standing in silence for a while, waiting for their drinks to cool down, but Cody grew more and more restless – it was like waiting for the storm to come after spotting the gathering clouds on the horizon.

“Is Anakin alright?” he asked eventually.

The Jedi’s face fell. “No,” he replied morosely, shaking his head. “No, and it extends beyond his secret marriage with Padmé. Anakin–“ Obi-Wan drew in a sharp breath and wrapped his arms around himself, as if bracing for the impact of his own words.  “He set foot on a path that leads into the dark. I hope he can still turn back, I… I must believe he can. But it’ll take time.”

Cody had never claimed to understand the Force, and perhaps the Jedi’s tendency to speak in metaphors and riddles did little to change that. But even he comprehended the severity of the situation.

“I’m sorry–“ he started, and he meant it, but didn’t know what else to say. Skywalker wasn’t on his list of favourite people – there were approximately a few million candidates on there with better odds than him – but he would have done anything to ease the sorrow his general must have been feeling.

“Don’t apologise for something you can’t help,” Obi-Wan said sincerely. A thin, rueful smile spread across his face. “If anything, I should thank you. Who knows, whether Anakin would have ever trusted me to confess any of this, if it wasn’t for our accidental arrangement.” His gaze flickered around his quarters. “Speaking of which, I really think we should talk. Did you lock the door?”

The commander shook his head, and as Obi-Wan flicked his wrist elegantly, he heard the lock click into place in the distance.

“I don’t want us to be interrupted,” the general explained, and sat down by the table, pulling the other seat out for Cody.  “No matter how it turned out, I think we got off on the wrong foot by putting on this farce. Cody, I–”

The cup in his hands was shaking slightly, stirring small ripples on the surface of the caf, so Cody placed it on the table to hide his nervous trembling.

“I understand,” he interjected befpre he could stop himself.

Obi-Wan seemed relieved. He was saved from the burden of having to break up with Cody, after all.

“You do?”

As an attempt to stall for time, Cody lifted his cup again, taking a big gulp of the caf. It was still too hot, leaving a burning sensation in the back of his throat and tears in the corners of his eyes, but it also gave him an excuse not to meet the other man’s gaze.

“It doesn’t make sense to keep it up now, does it? I’ve arrived to the same conclusion.”

The Jedi’s head snapped at him. If Cody didn’t know any better, he might have thought he was upset by the suggestion.

“Firstly, I did not say that.” Obi-Wan placed his own mug down a bit carelessly, it hit the table with a loud clank. “Secondly, I have spent the past couple of days – when I wasn’t busy consoling Anakin or being summoned by the Council – meditating and stewing in my feelings, replaying everything that happened, and I don’t…” He trailed off, looking to the side, as if someone was there prompting him the right words to say. His voice was courser and strained as he continued, “If it’s just me, then… Why do I sense so much sadness from you?”

During a mission on a forceforsaken planet whose name he couldn’t recall anymore, Cody had been standing on top of an assault tank, about to kick the piloting B1 battle droid’s head off when a blastershot scraped his ankle. He had slipped and fell. He had braced himself for the impact that never came. His general had broken the fall before he could have touched the ground.

Hearing these words from Obi-Wan felt exactly like being caught right before the crash.

It was hard to misinterpret the meaning behind them.

And yet, it took all of Cody’s courage to move his chair right next to his general’s, closing the distance between them. To reach for the other man’s hand and lace their fingers together under the table.

“I reckon you know by now,” he whispered, and let an incredulous laugh escape his lips as he gathered his remaining willpower and raised his gaze to meet Obi-Wan’s piercing blue eyes.

As if that was all the confirmation he needed, Obi-Wan leant forward and let their lips collide in a clumsy kiss that Cody reciprocated eagerly. Their noses bumped together and their teeth clanked and Cody had no idea what to do with his free hand, but he couldn’t care less, just as he didn’t care about the beard rasping his chin. All thoughts had escaped him. He felt a hand on the back of his neck, gently guiding him, and he complied, tilting his head to the side. The kiss deepened, and they slowed down as he mirrored Obi-Wan’s movements and picked up on his rhythm.

Obi-Wan was the one to pull back first, his left hand still clenching Cody’s, while the other slid forward from the back of his neck to cup his left cheek, his thumb moving up and down with nervous strokes. He was clearly mustering up his courage to say something.

“This… This isn’t for show,” he uttered against Cody’s lips, closing his eyes as he knocked their heads together gently. “There’s no one here. And… If you agree, I would like to give it a try. For real, this time.”

The soft press of their foreheads felt grounding, and Cody’s anxiety had completely faded.

“Well.” He lifted Jedi’s chin with his hand slightly, forcing them to make eye contact. “It would be a shame to let that paperwork go to waste, so we might as well.”

The feigned nonchalance in the younger man’s voice didn’t fool Obi-Wan judging by the self-assured grin that spread across his face in an instant.

“Not exactly the romantic response I’ve expected, but I must appreciate the efficiency, I suppose.”

“I don’t think I should be the one to spill my heart first if you can read my emotions,” Cody retorted.

He was aware that Jedi couldn’t read minds per se, but if his sadness had been palpable before, in his current state he must have been like an open book. He couldn’t recall ever having felt anything as intensely as the surge of affection that welled up in his chest in that moment.

“I’m afraid I deserved that,” Obi-Wan said apologetically and turned away to scan the room. “Unfortunately, I’ve fed all the dumplings to Anakin, but I could make it up to you by taking you on a date. Somewhere the waitress won’t smuggle datachips into my food, of course.”

Cody snorted at that. He sat back, leaving them only connected by their intertwined hands dangling between them. He looked at Obi-Wan a bit sheepishly as he asked, “Maybe we could just stay here? Keep our actual first date private?”

If the other man was disappointed, he didn’t let it show, as the familiar creases gathered in the corners of his eyes not even a split second later.

“Alright, I can work with that. I’m not a completely hopeless cook.”

Cody suspected that when he said that, Obi-Wan was being his usual humble self.

On the other hand, saying Cody didn’t have a lot of cooking experience would have been an understatement. He supposed, he would have been more than adept at following the instruction manual of a food processor, but apparently, the small stove that stood in the corner was involved, and he didn’t know where to even start with that. He was more than glad to make himself useful by chopping up vegetables, following simple instructions and just watching the Jedi bustle around the pot as he put the stew together.

Obi-Wan had explained that he rarely got around to preparing food in his own quarters – which is why he was only equipped with a single stove, he only used it to boil water for his tea – usually he ate downstairs in the Temple’s refectory. He made it sound like the cooking there left something to be desired, and said that he hoped Cody would rather enjoy a homemade meal.

“But I might have set the bar too high by taking you to Dex’s,” Obi-Wan mused, as he dumped the rest of the vegetables into the simmering broth. “Now, as soon as the kebroots are softened, it’s done. If you could hand me the lid, please.”

As Cody did, he made an attempt to reassure the Jedi.

“I’m sure whatever you make will beat the ration bars.”

The air was already filled with the smell of onions and a wide array of spices Cody couldn’t identify, but they made his stomach rumble in anticipation.

Obi-Wan huffed a small laugh and placed the lid on the pot. He handed Cody a couple of plates and they set the table in companionable silence. Once they were done, Obi-Wan raised his hand to his chin and looked at the scene before him disapprovingly.

“I have just the thing,” he muttered, putting a candle between the plates that Cody had seen him use during meditation before. He rummaged in the drawer next to him for a lighter; a clicking sound, blue sparkles flickering, and the candle was lit, and the small orange flame was reflected in the blue of the general’s eyes.

Cody stood close enough to see it.

He leaned in and reached out his hand, brushing the Jedi’s auburn hair with his fingertips, tucking it behind his ear gingerly. Grey hairs had appeared at Obi-Wan’s temple that hadn’t been there when they'd first met; the crease between his eyebrows, right next to the birthmark had deepened since as well.

It had started two standard years ago, but the War had made its mark on his general, as if it was a sculptor whose chisel carved wrinkles, a painter whose brush left grey hairs. and fading bruises, and white-red scars in its wake – small reminders of the passage of time. But this moment was theirs to savour before inevitably returning to the endless cycle of battles and anxiety-filled anticipation.

For now, all Obi-Wan worried about was whether Cody liked the stew he had cooked up, and Cody only had to fight the urge to wipe the broth that dripped on Obi-Wan’s beard.

And perhaps, afterwards, all their days would be spent like this.

Notes:

Thank you all for reading and leaving kudos. I appreciate the lovely comments, they made my day <3

Notes:

Title is from Achilles Last Stand by Led Zeppelin.